Ring of Fire
by Noelani618
Summary: XMenSupernatural. Logan rescued Mary Winchester as a child from the Org and as a result knew her and her family before her murder. Years later Dean seeks him out in hopes of answers and help. On hold.
1. Old Friends

**Ring of Fire**

A X-Men the Movie/Supernatural story

I own nothing.

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**Chapter 1: Old Friends**

Lawrence, Kansas 1981

"Logan!"

The blonde haired woman ran to the approaching man and hugged him. The fatherly smile on his face strangely comforted her husband as he watched his wife embrace the stranger he heard so much about. Holding his hand tightly, little Dean was watching his mommy and the stranger.

"Hey Mary," the man, Logan, grunted. He released her and held her at arms length and surveyed her from head to toe. "You grown up well kid." She blushed and looked away. Catching her husband's eye she motioned him over.

"Logan, this is my husband John and our son, Dean."

The little boy ran to his mother and she scooped him up in her arms. He peeked up at the man, curious and afraid at the same time. Deep hazel eyes met his for a moment. Dean smiled shyly before ducking in his mother's arm's once more. Logan chuckled.

John extended his hand, "John Winchester."

His opposite shook his hand firmly. "Logan."

"Mary says you rescued her when she was a child and took care of her until you found her parents. Thank you. I'd never have met her otherwise."

"John," Mary groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't scare him away. Come on, there's cookies waiting for us in the kitchen."

"Cookie?" Dean asked, looking up at his mother's face hopefully. She laughed, "Yes honey, you can have a cookie." Smiling, the friends walked up the porch steps and entered the house.

"So Logan, tell us about Japan. That's where you were last weren't you?" Mary fell silent as she saw Logan's expression darken. "I don't want to talk about it." He stated, his voice low and close to a growl. She pursed her lips and nodded. Something awful must have happened to make him that determined to forget. Instead she picked another topic that she thought to be safer.

She decided to speak privately with Logan about what happened. After all, to her he was family.

Later that evening, Logan sat on the front porch, smoking a cigar and staring up at the stars. He didn't regret coming to visit Mary and her family but he still felt immensely uncomfortable. He smelled her standing at the door, uncertain.

"Come on out kid." He lowered his cigar as she opened the door. He refused to look at her.

"What happened Logan? Please tell me," she whispered sitting next to him. Her anxiety came through the smoke and he sighed. He stomped out the cigar and stared up at the stars.

"My wife died." Those three simple words took everything out of him because he was the one who had been forced to kill her. The poison would have killed her slowly, one agonizing minute at a time. She begged him to kill her. He complied because he loved her and it was a mercy killing. It didn't stop the agony in his heart or ease his guilt. She was gone.

He barely heard Mary suck in her breath. Gently she lifted her hand to wipe his face. Tears; he was crying. The compassion in her touch shattered the barriers he had managed to build after his wife's death. Mary held him close as he sobbed. Everything he had in life always died always vanished because of _him_, because of what he was.

Finally he gathered his shattered composure and pulled away. Mary gazed at him, tears in her own eyes. She said nothing but continued to hold his hand and offer comfort in her touch. There was no way she knew that he was a killer. Logan couldn't look her in the eye. But she wouldn't let him disintegrate into nothing but guilt. She grasped his chin and made him look up. Her deep green eyes were full of compassion, love, and determination.

"Stay. Please, just for a little while."

He nodded slowly, lacking the strength and will to fight her. Everything felt hollow and numb. He doubted he'd be in any shape to go anywhere for a while. At least not emotionally. He was always fine physically.

_Seven weeks later_

Logan sat at the table, drinking a small mug of fresh coffee. He lowered his cup and counted backwards quietly. Dean came rushing in, his eyes bright and happy.

"Hi Log'n," the child cried. He smiled and scooped the child up in his arms.

"Hey there squirt," he growled playfully. Dean giggled. "We 'ave breakfas' in bed! It Father's Day!"

"Oh is it?" He'd forgotten about it. He didn't exactly celebrate often. "Uh huh. Mommy says you wait for her. She make you breakfast cause you like daddy. You get breakfast in bed!" The child paused and looked at his attire. "But you dressed al' weady!"

He chuckled lightly. Smirking at the child he replied, "Guess I'll just have breakfast at the table then. But don't worry kiddo. Mommy can make me breakfast in bed some other time."

"Okay," Dean said, still slightly upset. Then the child grinned mischievously. "Can we go peek on them? Its funny."

His eyebrow arched as a wolfish grin spread across his face. "Why not?"

"Yippee!" Dean cried jumping down and pulling Logan's arm. He complied and followed the child up the stairs. At the top, Dean put a finger to his lips, "Shhh."

Logan nodded and followed silently after the child. The seriousness on his young face was cute. He shook his head to himself. They started this game of peeking on Mommy and Daddy a few weeks back and the boy loved it, especially since his mommy and daddy laughed with him. Ever since, it had become a morning routine. Somehow he found it comforting and endearing in an odd way.

"Surprise!" Dean shouted pouncing inside the bedroom and climbing onto the bed where Mary and John sat, curled up next to each other and grinning ear to ear. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched fondly as the little family he privately called his own, laughed and joked together. It was a rare moment of happiness in his long life. He didn't need a physic to tell him it couldn't last much longer for him. The time had come for him to move on; at least for a little while. But he'd be back.

_One year later_

Logan entered the house to be greeted by Dean's happy shout. "Logan!" He grinned and caught the child as he came barreling down the hallway. "Hey squirt. How have ya been?"

"Good. Come on, come see Sammy!"

Sammy? Obediently he followed the little boy into the living room. Lying on a white blanket with yellow ducklings was a tiny baby boy. For a moment he stared in shock. The baby had dark hair, puppy-brown eyes, and a confused expression on his wee face at the sight of the stranger. Dean flopped down next to him, chattering happily to the baby, Sammy, that Logan was here. He'd come to see him and play with them both.

Not wishing to scare the baby, Logan got down on his knees and leaned against the sofa. Both watched the other warily. Dean felt the tension and broke it as he clambered into Logan's lap. Happily, he told Logan all about his new baby brother. As Dean talked, Logan carefully picked up little Sammy. The kid's stomach was growling loudly and it wouldn't be too long before he started calling for his mother to feed him. Spying the pacifier he slipped it into the child's mouth.

A look of contentment filled the small baby's face. His tiny hand wrapped around his finger and held on tightly while the other held Dean. Dean quieted down and looked at his brother lovingly. Logan smiled at the little boy. Dean would make a great brother. Unfortunately now he couldn't escape from them. Both Dean and Sam were snuggled in his lap and had no intention of leaving. With a sigh of resignation, he got comfortable and waited for Mary and John to stop staring at him through the kitchen door.

When he heard the camera flash his head whipped around to see the smirking faces of Mary and John. "That was too adorable to pass up."

He growled at the back of his throat. There was a reason he didn't like having his picture taken. But he could see why Mary could resist the temptation to get proof of him and children together. He groaned. "Okay, ya got me. Now your kids are hungry so come get 'em huh?"

Mary continued to smirk as she slipped the roll of film out of the camera. "All right. John, please take these and develop them before he shreds them."

Her husband grinned as he went out the door. "Of course sweetheart." Logan scowled at her as she picked up her baby. "Samuel Winchester, meet Uncle Logan."

"Uncle Logan?" He asked, giving her a look. "Would you rather be called grandpa?"

"No," he groused, knowing he'd lost. But uncle Logan? Come on. Dean smiled and tugged on his sleeve. "Can we eat lunch now?" He asked with pleading eyes. Logan shook his head in amusement. What a softie he was! With a grunt he stood and nodded. "Yeah. Lead the way kiddo."

Dean was only too happy to comply. Smirking he and Mary followed the delighted child. Glancing at Mary he asked, "How has everything been?"

"Great. John doesn't mind one bit that I'm different. Although; he was disappointed that I didn't trust him with it from the beginning. I feel bad about it but I was scared and I told him so. He forgave me. Not too long after we found out I was pregnant again."

"Well, congratulations," he declared warmly. "You ought to be very proud of both your boys."

"Oh I am. I am," Mary smiled at him. She couldn't express her joy that he'd come back. He was her backbone when it came to her power, her gift. When he rescued her he taught her how to control her power. After all, the life of a telekinetic isn't easy.

After feeding her children and putting them down for a nap they sat together on the back porch. She snuggled up next to him and whispered. "I've missed you."

He grunted in reply but he squeezed her arm gently. He knew she had. He'd missed her and her family too. But he couldn't stay long. They were after him again and if he lingered they could find Mary and her family too. He sighed inwardly. Why couldn't they leave him alone?

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_A/N: This is just a stab at a crossover for supernatural and X-men. I'm not entirely certain where it will go but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. So here it is. Please tell me whether or not you hate it, like it, love it or whatever. I appreciate constructive criticism. Oh on another note both Dean, John, and Logan will be OOC. Not completely but enough to be noticeable. I'll try to limit it though._


	2. Ash and Smoke

_I don't own Supernatural or X-Men._

**Chapter 2: Ash and Smoke**

Blinking his eyes, he wondered for a moment why he felt cold. Sitting up he glanced around his room. Mommy? Daddy? Slipping his shoes on, he grabbed a sweater and tiptoed out of the room. He'd just check on his baby brother. As he moved down the hall he suddenly felt fear unlike any he'd ever felt trickle down his spine. Black, smelly clouds were coming from Sammy's room.

Running to the door the little boy froze in horror. His mother, his beloved mother was pinned to the ceiling, covered in blood and a fire surrounding her. He couldn't hear Sammy wailing in his crib, he didn't see his father push past him as he screamed for his wife. All he saw was his mother. Suddenly a crying, warm blanket was thrust in his arms.

"Take your brother outside Dean! Protect him, son! Go!" Dean vaguely felt reality come back and he turned from the horrid sight and ran from the room. The fire spread rapidly, consuming everything in its path. He ran down the porch steps and across the lawn to the curb. Turning back he released a terrified cry. "Daddy!"

His daddy didn't answer but a gruff voice behind him did. "Dean!" He looked back to see Logan exiting his old pick-up truck. The tall man ran to him and lifted him and his brother up in his arms. "Mommy's on ceiling!" Dean cried. "She's covered in red and the fire surround her!"

Logan's face distorted in horror and he set the children down. He looked back at the fire and for a moment little Dean could swear he saw the fire reflect in his eyes like a mad beast.

"Stay here," Logan barked as he charged up the steps and through the burning door. Dean whimpered in fear. He could only pray his daddy and uncle came back alive.

Inside the house the flames curled the paint and incinerated the plaster at astonishing rate. Covering his nose Logan climbed the burning steps to the second floor. Faintly he could hear John's desperate cries for Mary and his angery cursing. Even through the smoke he caught the smell of death. Squeezing his eyes shut he forced his mind to focus on getting John out. He would grieve for Mary after her family reached safety.

He came to the door of Sammy's room and it took all his will not to go berserk. John was reaching up for her, tears pouring down his cheeks as she stared down at him with dead eyes, her lips parted in a silent scream. He knew it was to late. His senses screamed an alarm and he barreled into John just as the fire spit out from the ceiling. The blast hit his back and he gritted his teeth to suppress his scream, barely registering that he knocked the desperate man out as they landed on the floor. Pulling John underneath him, he did everything he could to shield the younger man from the flames.

A chilling, dark, and thundering voice whispered from above. "_This is only the beginning. Soon, my servants will crawl the earth and do my bidding. When the time comes these chosen shall wipe away the insects of this world. I like this child but his brother shall go. Yes, he shall perish._" As suddenly as it spoke it fell silent.

Breathing heavily, Logan lifted the unconscious man into a fireman's carry and hurried from the room. As he passed the master bedroom he stopped for a moment. Making a quick decision he ran inside and grabbed the scrapbook Mary made a few months ago from the drawer of the nightstand. If anything he could preserve her memory for her young children. Stuffing the small book inside his shirt he fled the room.

The house was burning to the ground with no possibility of stopping. As he came to the stairs he realized he couldn't carry his load down them. It would collapse underneath his feet. Glancing around for another escape he concluded he either jumped over the rail to the main floor or jumped through the window. Neither seemed greatly appealing but he was out of time to decide. He jumped out the window just as the fire hit the gas in the kitchen and blew. As they tumbled off the roof, Logan barely managed to keep John on top of him as they hit the hard ground.

Stars danced in front of his eyes as he forced his broken body to move. Gathering all his strength he pulled John away from the burning house. He barely registered Dean's frightened cries and Sam's crying. He could feel his bones healing back together and he managed to look coherent enough when the paramedics arrived to escape their notice. John was rushed to the hospital and Logan focused his attention on the two boys. After confirming with the police that he was a good family friend he took the boys and left the scene.

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_A/N: Rather short I know but don't worry, the next chapter will get longer. Question: any preference for Dean's power? After all, Sammy isn't the only one with gifts. I have an idea but any thoughts are welcome. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	3. Abandoned

_A/N: Chapter 3 edited is up! Thank you for all your reviews, they're greatly appreciated. Quick note on this chapter is be prepared for OCCness in John and Logan. Thanks to prophet144 for helping me._

**Chapter 3: Abandoned**

February1984, Kansas

A light breeze whispered through the night air catching his cigar smoke away. Lowering the cheap smoke from his lips he sighed heavily. The little boy had another nightmare. Dropping his cigar in the tin can by the porch step he turned around and entered the house. The fume of salty tears filled his nostrils and he closed his eyes. This shouldn't have happened. The poor child should be with his father, not him. His father should be here to wipe away his tears after another nightmare. His father should be here to offer the love only a father could give their offspring. Not him; he wasn't father material.

Soft, frightened whimpers sounded from the boys' room. Quietly stalking the hall he stopped in the doorway, simply watching. Dean, stroking his baby brother's hair whispered; "I'll always protect you Sammy. Just like Mommy wanted. I won't leave you."

The small boy choked up on his tears. They did not fall and a part inside him broke for the child. Forced to be so strong so young…life was so unfair. But he should know about the cruelty of life. He'd lived through much more then the child. But God, this child and his brother were innocent. Why them?

Silently he ghosted to the child's side. He didn't say a word as he placed a warm hand on his shoulder. Emerald green eyes, glinting with unshed tears shifted up towards his face. Dean lifted his arms up and he obliged him. Cradling the five-year old, Logan sat down in the wooden rocking chair by Sammy's crib. He rocked back and forth gently, humming a lullaby, and gentling rubbing the child's back. For Dean's part, he buried his face in his shoulder and released his tears.

Once his tears ceased Logan felt comfortable enough to speak. "Was it the same?"

Dean nodded, his fingers digging into his shirt. His fury came to the surface once more. Damn, why did John have to run off? Oh, he was going to track down that sorry bastard if it was the last thing he did. Twice he caught the man trying to commit suicide and now he'd run off to track down Mary's killer. The man didn't even consider what it meant to his children! He was reaching the end of his rope; he could explode any time here. But not yet, he couldn't yet. Shoving his emotions to the back of his mind he focused instead on talking to Dean.

"Dean, what happened isn't your fault."

"But Daddy said—"

"He's wrong! Dean, you're just a kid. Stop blaming yourself."

"But I made him leave!" Dean cried in despair. He stroked his blonde hair lightly. For a moment he considered whether or not he should sugar coat the truth. No, it would be better to tell him the truth. "Dean, he left of his own free will. He's drowning in his grief and forgotten everything but revenge. You have nothing to do with him leaving. It was his choice and he chose to walk away. But he's coming back Dean. Don't worry, I'll bring him back."

"What if he leaves again?" Logan cursed silently at the simple, yet difficult question to answer. Looking him in the eye he said, "He will stay. You are his son, Sam is his son, and he won't leave you. He loves you. You just have to remind him."

It was an empty promise, he knew. But he couldn't bring himself to tell Dean it could happen. Besides, he had no control of John Winchester decisions. He'd just better make the smart one when Logan caught up to him. Dean nodded and weakly smiled. He attempted to smile back but it felt false to him.

"Okay kiddo, time to get back to bed." He stood and walked over to Sam's crib. Perhaps he was coddling the boy by letting him sleep with his brother but he could care-less. When Dean slept with Sam, he slept through the night. The child felt comforted and he wouldn't deny him that. Settling the boy beside the sleeping baby, he tenderly covered them both with a blanket. Before he could leave, Dean grabbed his hand. Stopping he gazed down curiously at the boy.

"Mommy loved you. I love you and so does Sammy. You love us too right?" His heart constricted in his chest. Bending down he softly kissed Dean on the forehead. "Yes."

The smile on Dean's face filled him with warmth and adoration he had worked so hard to keep under wraps. These boys wrapped him around their thumbs just like their mother did so many years ago. With an affectionate smile he slipped away into the hall. Leaning against the wall he felt the tear escape the corner of his eye. Yes, he loved Mary and he loves her sons despite every instinct inside him screaming he was foolish to love them.

The rain poured down from the heavens in torrents, lightening burned across the ozone, and the thunder boomed. For Pastor Jim Murphy it seemed to foreshadow what he had yet to face. Ever since John Winchester showed up on his church doorstep demanding answers he knew something would happen. The man was stubborn, so bent on revenge it made him shiver to consider what hatred burned inside the injured man's veins.

That occurred nearly two and a half months ago. Recently he received word from his old friend Daniel Elkins that John had come after him. John went hunting with him, being a nuisance according to his description. But the call involved a bigger situation. Winchester left his two sons behind in the renovated homestead nearly fifty miles south of Lawrence.

Jim remembered the boys, Dean and Sam. Sweet, innocent, and confused children, he immediately fell in love with them. The meeting with the children had been brief. Another man, who went by Logan, had tracked John down at the church. Needless to say Logan was in a foul mood. He took John aside and gave him a hard, straight to the point lecture that rivaled his own to his children. John, indignant and embarrassed stormed out of the church and out to his truck. That was when he saw the little blonde boy. His face lit up as he cried; "Daddy!"

John ignored him and brushed past as he slammed the truck door shut. Starting the ignition, he roared away. Jim gaped after the disappearing truck and didn't react immediately to the boy's sobs. Finally he snapped out of trance and kneeled down next to the crying child.

"There, there, lad. It's going to be all right." He embraced the child gently, comforting him quietly. Boots crunched behind him and he stood up. Turning he came face to face with Logan and a baby. The expression on Logan's face was difficult to decipher; anger, sadness, and disappointment seemed to race across his face in matter of seconds. Then it was gone.

Dean released him and held out his arms to Logan. He shifted the baby and accepted him. Jim found his eyes locked on the sad scene playing before him. A middle-aged man comforting two small children, one not even his own. At least he assumed at the time. Logan later told him neither was his. Yet when Logan handled the children he responded so naturally he found it difficult to believe he wasn't a father. A bitter look passed over Logan's face when he mentioned it.

"Naw, I didn't get the chance. Might have one day, but that's past now." Old pain threaded his tone and Jim would bet that Logan had lost his own wife just a few years prior. He didn't ask; sometimes it was better not to know. Since the hour was late, he insisted they stay for the night. Reluctantly Logan agreed. Maggie, his lovely wife, fixed a wonderful spaghetti dinner for them. Throughout the meal, she fussed over baby Sammy, leaving him reminiscing about his own now grown children. Logan ate silently, eyes distant, expression clouded. Three guesses what he was thinking about. After the children were in bed he had a long talk with the man called Logan. It was…informative. After that night, the two men stayed in touch about John's actions and met from time to time to discuss solutions. It also offered a perfect excuse for Logan to bring the children for Margaret to dote on them.

All of this accumulated into his reason for driving to the homestead in a thunderstorm. He must speak to Logan about the future of the young boys. Logan had given him his trust, with a secret he knew he could never reveal. That alone drove him to aid the man. The goal now was to track down the wayward John Winchester. If Logan didn't teach him a lesson then he most certainly would. There was no excuse for a man to abandon his children.

At last he spotted the homestead in the distance. 'Thank you Lord,' he thought. Exhaustion weighed his limbs and he didn't think he could drive much longer. Pulling up in front of the one-story, stone house he barely managed to turn the handle when the front door opened partially. Logan stared at him for a moment with a calculating stare before gesturing for him to hurry inside. He only too happily complied.

Inside the air felt warm and dry. The stove was on and for a moment Jim wondered why. Then he remembered. Ah, he really needed to get some rest if couldn't remember the facts. Removing his coat he sank down into a chair.

"Coffee?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, thank you." Jim knew Logan would only allow him so much time to recover. Taking the offered mug, he took a sip and relished the warm liquid as it slid down his throat. Gathering his wits, Jim looked at Logan.

"I've heard from Elkins today. John's with him, apparently, learning the ropes of hunting the supernatural."

He wasn't surprised by the grunt from his opposite. "He has no idea what he's getting into does he?"

"You do?" Honestly he had no clue how Logan knew so much about supernatural beings but the man had been able to name many he'd encountered himself and still others he'd only read about. Logan entrusted him with his secret but not his history, which apparently extended beyond most men. Patiently he waited for an answer. Logan appeared thoughtful for a moment before stating grimly; "More then I care to recall. But that isn't your only reason for visiting is it?"

Physically forcing his body not to jump up and pace, Jim swallowed. Leave it to Logan to get to the heart of the matter. Running a hand across his face he sighed. "No. I just received word a few hours ago that the federal authorities are claiming custody of Dean and Sam."

"What?" Logan roared. He leapt up and stormed across the room and back again. Taking deep breaths, Logan tried to get a handle on his anger. He had been expecting this, just not so soon. Dammit! How was he going to handle this one? Slowly he collapsed back in his chair. He put his face in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. Jim sympathized with him. Logan sacrificed a great deal to keep the small family together and now, when they were so close to reuniting father and children the government chose to interfere.

"Its not hopeless. If we can find John and get him back here…"

"They'll say he's an irresponsible parent and take them anyway and put them in foster care. Damn, Jim, there is no easy way out of this. If John wasn't so hotheaded maybe he'd consider the consequences but it's too late for that now." Logan growled. He scrubbed his face. There was no way out this time unless…

"You could claim guardianship Jim."

"What?" The poor pastor gasped. He didn't expect Logan to incriminate him as a possible guardian! Logan nodded. "Yeah, why not? You love these kids. Besides it would provide a stable environment while I hunt down John's ass."

"Language," Jim warned him absently. Carefully he considered the proposal, weighing the pros and cons. It seemed to be a good idea but he honestly couldn't remove the children from Logan's care suddenly. The situation was bad enough with John losing his head.

Taking a deep breath he said, "I think that might work. But I need to talk it over with Maggie."

Logan snorted. "I think we both know her answer to that." They shared a smile. Indeed, Maggie Murray absolutely loved the Winchester boys. The smile faded into a concerned frown. "Logan, we can't just spring this suddenly on the boys you know. Dean's having a hard time as it is."

"I know, I know," Logan sighed, sounding very much like an exhausted concerned parent. "He's been having nightmares since Mary's death and they have doubled since his dad ran off. He wakes up screaming just about every night unless he's in Sammy's crib. Even then, he has an occasional nightmare."

This was worse then he thought. Jim shook his head sadly. "I don't think you should leave them Logan. Honestly, right now you're probably the only one they'll feel safe with."

"Just how are you going to explain that to Child Services? I'm not married; don't have a job, not registered as a citizen, and not a blood relative. I don't think they're going to see the situation like you do." Logan said bitterly. Standing, he glanced down the hall from the kitchen. "Sammy's awake."

Moving away from the kitchen table he disappeared down the hall. While Logan retrieved the baby, Jim mulled over what he saw in the man's reaction. From his observations tonight, Logan clearly cared about Dean and Sam on a higher level then he originally thought. A scrap of burgundy caught his eye. Standing he strode over to the small shelf. Up close he recognized the book to be a photo album. Curious. Logan returned with a blue bundle in his arms just as he turned back to the table.

The man cocked an eyebrow at him suspiciously. Logan poured the warmed milk from the pan into a bottle. Jim realized the man had been warming the milk while they talked. Smart man. Once Sammy happily suckled away at his bottle, Logan's attention shifted back to him.

"What did ya find so interestin'?"

"Well, the burgundy caught my eye so I came over to see what it was. Mind if I have a look?" He dipped his head and Jim picked up the album. The gold letters on the first page read, _The Winchester Family 1976-1983_. For a moment all the breath left his lungs. This was evidently a woman's work: Mary Winchester. With shaking fingers he slowly, almost reverently turned each page. The first few pages contained pictures of Mary and John on their wedding day. After that came a couple pages of some special events the young couple did together. Then came the pictures of an infant Dean. He stared at the small, adorable child and his gut twisted at the smiling faces of both John and Mary as they proudly held him. More pictures followed containing Dean as he grew. Then to his shock a single picture showed Logan sitting with Dean in his lap, a book in hand. The book appeared to be _Goodnight Moon_ by Margaret Wise Brown. Swallowing he forced himself to turn the page. He froze. There was one picture on the page and it was of Mary Winchester and Logan. The caption beneath it read; "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection" _Sigmund Freud. _Logan gave me protection when no one else would, he stood by me as my world collapsed. He saw me through to the end until he found me a loving family. I will never forget him. Mary Winchester, June 18, 1981."

Jim let the album slip from his fingers and hit the table. In disbelief he asked; "You saved Mary? How? When?"

"It's a long story. Perhaps I'll tell you someday." Logan replied, burping Sammy on his shoulder. "Ya might as well finish," he grumbled.

Chewing his lip, Jim obeyed. Not that he wouldn't have he just found it hard to believe that Logan was the man who rescued Mary when she was a child. Often she alluded to her kidnapping and her rescuer who cared for her until he found her a wonderful foster family. Wait, yes, he could believe that. The proof was in Logan's arms. Flipping through the remaining pages he noted the pictures of infant Sammy and stopped at the picture of Dean, Sammy, and Logan. He couldn't explain what hit him he just knew it was right. Logan was meant to look after these children. His fate rest with these two small boys as God planned. He couldn't help smiling. The Lord certainly worked in mysterious ways. As he came to the end he realized someone else added a dedication at the end. It was for Mary with a contribution drawing from Dean. Heavens, he felt like crying.

Reading the poem he furiously chewed his lip. It wasn't just a dedication, it was a poem written about a daughter, wife, and mother well loved. Closing the album he sought his inner calm. He shouldn't be so affected by this, but he was. Mary had been like a daughter to him too.

Lifting his eyes to Logan's slumped figure he tried to speak. Only no words came. Forest green eyes gradually met his light blue. A silent understanding passed between them. A distressed scream broke the connection. Logan handed him baby Sammy, saying, "Dean."

Taking the child in his arms, Jim watched him leave before attending to the squirming bundle in his arms. Sammy's puppy-brown eyes were full of fear and confusion. "Its all right Samuel. Logan just went to help Dean. Don't worry, they'll be right back."

After he uttered the words he realized just how ironic they were. Logan and Dean would return but his father might not. Forcing a smile onto his face he scanned the living room. His gaze settled on the small basket full of children's books. Ah, well, it would pass the time. Picking out a hard back, he settled down on the sofa. In his warm, aging voice he quietly read the story to the child.

Jim lost track of the books he read before Logan appeared, Dean hugging his neck. The poor man appeared disheartened to a great degree as he sank down on the couch. Dean snuggled closer to him, keeping his face buried in his shirt, whimpering. He murmured a few comforting words Jim couldn't quite catch and the child quieted.

"Bring Sammy here Jim." He obeyed and he placed the sleeping baby in his arm. Dean immediately grabbed onto the blue blanket before settling once more on Logan's chest. If it wasn't so sad he might have found the sight laughable. A big strong warrior cuddling two small boys didn't quite seem right. Not for someone like Logan anyway.

Getting comfortable in the chair he prepared his mind for the long night ahead. Sometimes, it was best to simply follow instead of lead.

Logan woke up to something kicking his ribs. Groaning he cracked his eye open. Sammy kicked again, pouting at him impatiently. He snorted and shook his head. "Squirt you're getting spoiled. All right, I'm up." Groggily he gradually maneuvered into and upright position. Rubbing his face he glanced over at the chair. Jim was snoring, mouth open, his head leaning against side of the chair. Smirking at the sight, Logan picked Sammy up. He had smelled the diaper before he woke up but now it smelled worse.

"Geez, I'm gonna have ta stop feeding ya squirt. Phew!" Carrying Sam at arms length he walked into the nursery. Changing the baby's diaper he decided a bath would be in order. Starting the water he mused over how he would break the news to Dean. Instinct told him the child wouldn't take too kindly to the change after everything he'd been through. Which left him low on options. He sighed heavily. Returning to the nursery he checked on Sam to find him contentedly chewing on a set of plastic keys inside his crib. Amused he walked back to the front room. Jim stirred slightly, moaning and moving his neck. Logan tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Rise and shine honey," he said sweetly. "Maggie?" Jim opened his eyes, confused. Logan snorted, "No darlin', just old ugly me."

"Huh?" Jim pushed himself forward, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blinking he looked at him as he smirked shamelessly at him.

"Logan? What—oh shut your mouth!" Jim's face tinged red and Logan chuckled. "Never said a word rev."

He ignored the dark scowl he received and woke Dean.

"Wakey, wakey, Dee."

"Nhhh," Dean groaned, rolling into a ball. Logan grinned. "Do I have to drop you in ice water to get you moving like last week?"

His eyes shot open and he toppled from the couch. Logan caught him, shaking his head. Dean glared at him. "Not funny."

"Maybe not to you, but most certainly for me. Now get going. Bath's waiting for ya."

Pouting Dean marched away to the bathroom. The pastor shook his head, amusement glinting in his eyes as he commented; "Morning routine?"

"Nah, more like once a week. Usually when he gets me cranky."

Jim chuckled. The poor boy was stuck with a sarcastic, grumpy man. What a way to live! Logan gave him a devilish grin. "After they're bathed I'll whip us up some grub. You may continue to catch flies until then."

He fled the room before the reverend could comment. Sure the barb would probably come back and bite him in the butt but it was worth seeing the old coot's expression. Whistling softly he let his attention slip back to bathing two very, wet, and messy boys.

An hour later the little group finished their meal of bacon and eggs. Setting the dishes in the sink, Logan glanced down at Dean. The little boy had brightened considerably since earlier. It seemed wrong to burst his bubble. Pulling Jim aside he whispered; "Look, let's discuss this tomorrow. I'll bring the kids up and we'll talk it over; all of us."

The pastor nodded in agreement before reengaging in a conversation with Dean. He released a sigh. At least Jim understood why he wanted to wait. He could only hope and pray the government wouldn't come before tomorrow. Pushing his growing melancholy aside he focused on enjoying the time with Dean and Sam (even if he was just a baby).


	4. Choice

_A/N: Thank you all reviewers and special thanks to prophet144 for telling me Pastor Jim's last name. Here is chapter 4, enjoy_!

**Chapter 4: Choice**

Maggie anxiously tapped her foot as she waited for Jim to arrive home. He called fifteen minutes ago from a payphone and she desperately wanted to know what happened yesterday at the homestead. Jim sounded so resigned she feared the worst. What if Child Services already took the children? Dear Lord don't let it be so, she prayed. Finally the crunch of the gravel announced his return.

Leaping to her feet she opened the door before Jim managed to open the car door. He must have seen her concern because he offered an appeasing smile.

"Its okay sweetheart. They're still with him."

She sent up a grateful prayer before ushering her husband inside. Jim sat at the table, head in his hands while she poured him a fresh cup of coffee. Placing the cup in front of him, she sat down and watched him. He murmured a soft thank you before taking a sip.

"Jim," she intoned, "What's going on?"

He sighed heavily. "Oh Maggie, I'm such a fool! I should never have told John about the supernatural!"

"Honey that man is so stubborn I doubt he wouldn't have found out one way or another. Don't blame yourself Jim." She understood why he blamed himself but she privately believed Logan would prove to be a good guardian.

"I'm trying sweetheart, truly I am. But, Maggie, those children respond so naturally to him! He's their only comfort against nightmares and fears. How can we take them away?"

"What do you mean?" She couldn't mask the fear. Her wide blue eyes scanned his face carefully for an answer. Taking a deep breath, Jim replied quietly; "Logan wants us to take the children."

She blinked. She blinked again, trying to comprehend what he just said. "W-what?"

"Logan wants us to be Sam and Dean's guardians." Jim clarified. He tapped his fingers rhythmically. He shook his head. "What do I say Maggie? That we're too old? We don't have the means, what? Logan reminded me yesterday that should John come back the Service will say he's a child endangerment. They'll take them Maggie. What do we do? Dean needs Logan, and I'm nearly certain that Sam does too. What do we do?"

Maggie placed a warm hand on his. She lifted his chin to meet her eyes. "I don't know Jim, but we'll find a way. God willing, these children will be with the one they need."

He gave a bleak, watery smile. Her faith reassured him, comforted him, and still the knot in his stomach remained.

At dawn the following morning Jim stood on the porch, staring up at the heavens, praying fervently. He and Maggie talked nearly all night about their options. Finally they reached a decision. It was in the best interests of the children so why did his gut still gnaw with doubt?

Grabbing his cowboy hat he started off towards the barn. Perhaps spending some time with Ray and Beth would clear his thoughts. He grinned as he whistled for his old shepherd Jethro. The shaggy black and white dog came trotting to his side, pink tongue hanging from the side of his muzzle. Fondly he stroked the black head. Jethro had been with him for nearly ten years now and he loved the animal. For a moment he wonder how the dog would react to two small children. He would love them.

"Come on boy. Let's check on the girls." Jethro barked in reply and walked beside him down the path. The sun crept across the blades of grass and beyond, glinting like shards of a mirror. Perhaps, if he and Maggie raised the Winchester children they could help them pick up the pieces of their life. But could they do it again after Logan was gone? There was no way to know until it happened. Simply put, only time would reveal their strength.

* * *

Dean sat in the backseat of the pick-up truck, staring out the window. Something didn't seem right with Logan this morning. His eyes spoke volumes to him through the last few months and he depended on them to tell him the man's mood. This morning the hazel eyes appeared darker then usual, heavier set with brown and even black. Only once had he seen Logan's eyes that dark and that was the night his world changed again. 

"Logan," he whispered, "What's wrong?"

Logan sighed. "Ask me later, okay?"

"Okay," Dean crossed his arms and glanced at his sleeping baby brother. Sammy's face pictured contentment and peace he didn't feel. Someday he would, someday, but not today maybe not for years he just knew he would wait. His baby brother needed the peace more then him.

Logan watched him in the rearview mirror. Closing his eyes he sought a way to tell Dean he and his brother would be living with Pastor Jim and Maggie because the government would take them away otherwise. There was no easy way. Silently he sent up a prayer to whoever would listen. His heart would shatter but he could preserve the children.

The rest of the drive was in relative silence. At last the truck turned down the dirt road to the Murphy home. Stepping out of the truck unease settled on his bones. Shaking the dread away he opened the back door and unbuckled Sam. The sleeping baby gave a yawn and opened his eyes.

"Hey squirt. Have a nice nap?" Sam cocked his head to the side before offering a dimpled smile. Smirking, he lifted the baby into his arms. Dean stood at his feet, fear in his eyes.

"Why are you so sad? What are you afraid of Logan?" The child asked; his own fear bellied in his tone. Shock went through him like an electric current. The boy couldn't be…oh shit. Looking at the boy's expression his fear manifested completely. Dean could feel his shock, which meant he was an empathic and possibly more. Getting a grip on his emotions he carefully blocked his unease and confusion.

"We'll talk inside. Go on now and greet Mags before she comes out her and squeezes ya to death for makin' her wait."

A small smile lit the boy's face as he obeyed. Logan slowly followed him, scolding himself for how blind he'd been. The signs had been there for months. Idiot! Well, it couldn't be changed now. Instead he must focus on training the child. He withdrew from his thoughts as he stomped up the porch steps and into the house.

Jim greeted him with a nod. "Logan, glad you got here okay."

He didn't bother to reply. There really seemed to be nothing to say. Maggie stood in the kitchen hugging Dean and looked up when she heard her husband.

"Logan," she greeted, releasing Dean to hug the startled man. "Hello Sammy," she cooed, tickling the baby gently. Sammy giggled and gurgled with pleasure. She waited hopefully for Logan's permission to hold the young babe. He grunted and she gave a pleasant motherly smile as she cradled the baby to her breast.

The man watched with fierce protection and love as she held the child. He knew she would take good care of Sammy and Dean. Just how did you make a five-year-old understand that it was for the best you stepped back from the picture? Catching Jim's eye he glanced back at the door. The pastor nodded and kissed Maggie on the cheek.

"Feed them lunch dear. Logan and I are going to go outside for a few minutes for fresh air."

"All right," she said knowingly. "Dean would you get me the bread?"

The rest of the conversation slipped away from his mind although he monitored it with the back of his mind. His full attention honed in on Jim.

"Well?"

Jim grimaced at his tone. "Logan please, you have to understand, Maggie and I adore the boys but we're not cut out to give them the care they need." He swallowed hard as Logan's eyes grew sharp like flint.

"You don't want them."

Crossing his arms, Jim sighed again. "Look, Logan, they need someone who will love and support them in ways that neither Maggie, John, or I can. They need _you_."

"Dammit Jim, we both know why I can't!"

"No Logan," Jim countered gently. "I know people have driven this mistrust into you and you don't trust yourself either but you can have a family. You're a natural and I think if you really…"

"That isn't why I can't do this," Logan exploded. He grabbed Jim and lifted him off the ground. "I'm a threat to whomever I'm near. People die because some bastards with crazy ideas decide they want me for this or that. I'm a damn killer!"

He dropped Jim on the porch and stormed away. The pastor watched his retreating figure with sadness. His words did not agree with his eyes. Logan wanted a family but because of what he was he refused to endanger them. That proved just how much he deserved to have a family but he was too afraid to risk failure and loss. Again. Pushing his body up he sat there, watching Logan tear through the field and behind the barn.

"Jim?" Maggie asked appearing in the door. Her face painted with concern as she kneeled down beside him. "What happened?"

He opened his mouth to reply but noticed Dean standing just behind her. "Logan just needs some time to think. I don't think he was pleased with what I had to say." Maggie understood what he meant and to his surprise Dean demanded, "Why is he so angry and why are you feeling guilty? What did you tell him about Sammy and me?"

"I beg your pardon young man, were you listening to us talk?"

"No—I just…" Dean's face dissolved into fear. With a frightened cry he fled back inside.

"Dean!" Jim shouted. He and Maggie hurried after the boy. Maggie scurried to the kitchen to check on Sam while he searched desperately for the boy. Again he called, "Dean! Dean its okay! Come out child, there is nothing to fear."

He jumped when the screen door slammed. Logan strode into the room, his expression darker then thunder. "What happened?"

"Dean took off after I…" he trailed off uncertain exactly what triggered the terror. But Logan didn't need him to finish.

"He knew how you felt didn't he?"

It was more of a statement rather than a question. How did he know? Nodding he asked; "Has this happened before?"

Logan gave a curt nod, his nostrils flaring. Then he started down the hall with deliberate steps and stopped in front of the hall closet. He gave Jim a glare.

"Go."

Jim obeyed not knowing just how he should respond. Once the pastor left Logan opened the door. The closet brimmed with jackets and shoeboxes full of family treasures and excess junk, a perfect hiding place for a small five-year-old boy. Sitting down half in half out he spoke quietly. "Dean, come here."

For a moment there was no sound until a slight rustle came from the corner. Small hands crept across the floor followed by a tear-stained face with terrified eyes. The boy stopped a few inches away, trembling.

"You did nothing wrong Dee."

"Pastor Jim was mad at me!"

"Was he? To me he sounded concerned and surprised." Logan remarked casually. He gave the boy a sidelong glance. Dean smelled confused now. Holding his knees, Dean rocked back and forth, thinking. Logan simply waited.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing Dean. You just have something special, a gift in a way. You're an empath."

He explained, "It's a form of mind reading. You can sense people's emotion and sometimes receive pictures in your mind of a memory from someone else's mind."

"But I don't want it! Take it away, please! "

"Dean," he said, his voice heavy, "I can't. It's a part of you like your eyes, hair, and legs. And like your legs you have to learn how to use it. I can't take it away but I can teach you how to control it."

Dean wiped his sleeve across his face. Hopeful, he climbed into Logan's lap. "You will?"

"Yeah. I promise," Logan replied softly. The smile on Dean's face made his heart ache. "I'm glad yore here Logan." Dean hugged him, resting his face on his breast and Logan wrapped his muscular arms around the child possessively. Screw the rest of the world; he couldn't leave Dean alone.

Eventually he managed to get Dean to apologize to Jim and Maggie for scaring them and the rest of the afternoon proceeded peacefully. As the sun disappeared beyond the horizon Logan pondered his actions. To remain with the children would place their lives in grave danger but he couldn't run anymore. He wanted a family again, and the Winchester boys were his chance.

Jim was talking with Maggie about how they could convince Child Services to let Logan be their guardian. He snorted. It wouldn't happen. But a solution already formed in his mind. The younger man approached him cautiously.

"Your fear is well placed Jimbo but not at the moment."

Flushing, Jim sat down next to him. "Logan, Maggie and I—"

"Were discussing how I could retain guardianship of the children. The truth is I can't. But, if you and Maggie became the legal guardians I'll stick around and help out."

His mouth fell open. Stuttering, "Wh-what? You want us to be their legal guardians but you'll raise them?"

"Pretty much," Logan replied, taking a swig of his coke. The coke didn't taste bad he just really wished he could have a beer right now. He sent an inquiring stare at the shocked pastor. The man ran his fingers through his graying blonde hair and rubbed his clean-shaven chin.

"I think it just might work." Jim smiled, determination and hope shining in his eyes. Logan grinned back. "Yeah, it might."


	5. Going Home

_A/N: Hey readers, I'm back! I apologize about the delay but I got stuck and lacked inspiration. So finally I managed to write this. I hope you enjoy. The next chapter will have a big jump in time so be prepared. Anyway, please read and review! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing _

**Chapter 5: Going Home**

**_April 25, 1984_**

Stepping out of the old truck he inhaled the stale air. Bingo. Grabbing his leather jacket he stalked into the seedy bar. He scanned the dimly lit room, noting the drunks, riled up rednecks, junkies, and fools all stationed around the pool tables and bar stools. During his scan he passed over his intended target. Good, his nose proved to still be more reliable then the ramblings of drunkards.

Discreetly he slipped through the throng of people to the bar. "I'll have a beer," he said, slapping a couple dollar bills on the counter. The hardened bartender gave a nod as he retrieved his drink. The bartender watched him the whole time and he couldn't help smirking. Amateur. He toasted his glass in the old man's direction before taking a drink. The bartender grunted, moving away to tend to another customer.

Alone, he briefly reviewed the information in his head as he lit a cigar. An ex-marine and now rookie to a hunter of supernatural entailed good observation skills and concrete fighter's training from the best promoted his target to dangerous level. Time to test just how good John Winchester was.

Leisurely he stood up and started toward the corner. Winchester never even looked up. He's drowning in sorrow, he concluded but that didn't mean he was a complete failure. Without hesitation he slid into the opposite side of the booth.

John didn't even lift his head. "Leave me alone," he slurred. Man, the guy had passed his limit at least four glasses ago. Shaking his head he growled but didn't speak. Finally Winchester looked up revealing the bags under his eyes and his unshaven now scarred face undermining the effect of his death-glare.

John couldn't see him. The shadows were too long and deep in the corner he couldn't even see the stranger's profile. The only light came from the smoldering cigar in the stranger's hand. Squinting he tried to see anything that would tell him about the man. Shaking his head to clear the buzz he grumbled, "What do you want? Get away from me."

His brown eyes followed the cigar to; he assumed, the man's face. The man inhaled the smoke and blew out causing the flames to grow more intense for a moment. A pair of steely hazel eyes stared directly at him, right to his soul. Moments later the darkness swallowed them. Wait a minute; he knew those eyes. Searching his memory for a name his heart skipped a beat when he realized who it was.

"The first rule about being a hunter is never getting drunk before or after a job unless certain you're in safe territory. Second, never drop your guard because you have no idea who may come hunting for you. And third always be prepared." Logan placed Winchester's pistol on the table, devoid of all bullets. "You never know when you'll need a back-up."

Glaring John spat; "Go to hell!"

"Someday I'm sure I will but until then you'd better start paying attention."

John sneered; "Pay attention to you? You know absolutely nothing about hunting."

"We'll see," Logan responded cryptically. "Now get up, we're leaving."

"I ain't going anyw'ere," John snarled. Logan stood up, towering over him. He suddenly felt smaller and more vulnerable.

"It wasn't a suggestion boy, it was an order."

He wanted to resist, put up a fight, make a stand and found he didn't have the strength. Every part of him felt drained beyond anything he ever experienced. Sulkily he moved his feet to stand up and nearly toppled over. Shaking his head he tried to walk but couldn't control his feet. Logan put a firm hand on his arm and guided him out.

Breathing heavily, John forced his mind to stay awake as he stumbled to the truck. The only reason he hadn't kissed the asphalt held him menacingly and literally shoved him into passenger seat of his pick-up truck. Barely coherent he managed to gasp, "Wher' we goin'?"

An annoyed grunt answered him. Sighing he closed his eyes and let unconsciousness consume him. No need to stay awake to listen to the silence. He woke up to his stomach rebelling. Covering his mouth he threw the door open and tumbled from the truck, retching. Only after he stopped heaving did he realize the truck had not been moving. Lifting his head he found Logan leaning against the truck, arms crossed, frowning at him.

"Done?"

His throat still burned with bile and he nodded. Struggling to his feet he climbed back into the truck. Logan shook his head and slammed the driver's door and started the engine. Within moments the truck roared down the highway once more. Wiping his sweaty face John slowly asked, "Why do you care? What have you lost? You have no reason to come after me like a runaway!"

"You are a runaway. You're running from the memories and the pain. I have news for ya junior, running won't change it, drinking won't change it, nothing will. No matter what ya do you'll carry it with ya for the rest of your life. The only thing you can do is protect what you have left and be ready for the bastard when he comes back."

"Comes back?" John exclaimed whipping around. Logan met his gaze. "Yeah. There has to be a reason the demon came after your wife. My guess is she got in the way and died because of it."

"Sammy," he breathed. "The demon wanted Sammy."

"And she stopped him. He'll be back John. Are you going to make her sacrifice worthwhile? Will you leave your family for yourself?"

John couldn't answer him.

The night wore on and soon it was day. Logan didn't stop. He just kept driving on right through the day. John vaguely recalled finding this curious but his thoughts mostly circled around the two children he left behind. How could he leave them? Fool! Logan knew that he needed someone to say it to his face and did. Unfortunately it did nothing to alleviate the pain. In fact, the guilt and loss simply increased. He'd been gone for nearly five months; who watched the children? Did they know he still loved them? What had he done?

Turning to face the window he let the tears escape. Since Mary died he had not cried. He couldn't, he had to find her killer. His quest caused him to leave his children too early. They were too young and vulnerable to be left alone. As his tears dried John grew adamant. He would train Dean and Sam to be soldiers; they would help him when they were ready to defeat the monster that killed Mary. A grim smile grew across his face. Yes, he would train them and together, as a family, they would destroy the demon and all other supernatural creatures that got in their path.

John didn't realize Logan's surveillance throughout the drive honed in specifically on his emotions nor did he realize what a danger he would be up against if he pissed the man off. He didn't know. He never would know just how much Logan loved the children, his wife, the Murphy's, or even him. The drive for revenge would lay him in his grave before he had the chance.

**_April 27, 1984_**

Wrapping the blanket tightly around the small shoulders, she did her best to keep baby Sam warm. The baby cried unhappily at the pressure.

"Oh baby, I know, I'm sorry. But it's too cold for you. Just a minute sweetie and we'll be inside," she soothed, massaging the dark head. Holding him close, she scampered up the steps and inside.

Breathing a sigh of relief she lowered her grocery bag. "Well, are you hungry Sammy?"

Sammy gurgled in anticipation. Several happy baby noises followed. Laughing, Maggie walked into the kitchen. Settling the baby in the high chair she began to prepare a bottle. As she waited for the milk to warm her thoughts began wondering. Smiling fondly at the baby she remembered when Logan built the high chair he now rest in.

What a day it had been when Logan and Dean unveiled their craftsmanship! Dean's joyful face still struck her with happiness and pride. The little boy eagerly offered assistance to Logan when he announced his intention to build the necessary baby furniture. Logan agreed. Maggie didn't see the need for work but when she mentioned her opinion to Logan's answer surprised her.

"There's more to it Maggie. I'm building a foundation for him to fall back upon when the world around him becomes too much. I can't teach him everything; the hardest lessons are learned alone but I will do my best to guide him until he's ready."

She mulled over what he said for hours until she finally concluded that Logan believed Dean would face a long, hard, dark road but refused to let him go alone. Logan seemed to know he wouldn't be there forever and was offering Dean the tools to survive.

After the furniture came the mechanics. Dean took to cars like a bee to honey. He loved working on cars and Logan's proud smile spoke volumes of his progress. A small classic car collection starting to build in their old barn testified to the success. Admittedly, Maggie noticed a change in Dean over the last couple months. On the farm he was gradually gaining weight, a healthy glow to his cheeks, and a renewed will to live. The vigor Dean had when asked to complete the simplest mundane task contrasted sharply with the melancholy, shy child who first came here. She almost wished she and her husband could claim credit for the child's growth but didn't. Logan made the difference: his every quiet praise, gentle encouragement, and companionship transferred into the boy.

Suddenly she came back to the present, shivering terribly. Confused she glanced across the room. The valence fluttering in and blast of cool air explained that the window had been a left open. Closing the window she mentally checked when she opened the window earlier. A chill raced through her heart. She hadn't; the window had been closed when she came in.

Shaking with fear she fled from the window. Gathering Sam in her arms she grabbed the telephone. The wire had been cut. Her tongue felt large and dry in her mouth as she ran from the room. Clutching Sammy in her arms she sent up a fervent prayer for help as she huddled in the corner of her bedroom, a crucifix in her pale hand.

He didn't really know why, he just had a sudden urge to call the Murphy's and make sure everything was okay. Pulling the truck into a gas station he made John fuel the tank while he placed a quick call. The man didn't look pleased but obeyed. Just in case, Logan took the keys and tweaked the ignition so only he could start the truck.

Stuffing two quarters into the slot he dialed the Murphy number. As he waited his sharp nose identified someone watching him from above. He thought he was being watched. When the operator declared the number to be disconnected he slammed the receiver down. Okay, not good. Carefully considering the possibilities he finally decided to call the church. Maybe somebody could help him there. Quickly feeding the slot two more quarters he called the church. The secretary, Pat, answered;

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"Patty, its Logan. Is Jim 'round?"

"Sorry Logan, he just left with Dean c couple minutes ago. He said something about not being able to reach Maggie. He looked really worried."

Crap, Logan thought. "Thanks Patty. Talk to ya later." He hung up before she could reply. Turning around he started back toward the truck, counting silently in his head. Three, two, one…

He dodged his attacker and cut him underneath the gut with his knee and cracked his elbow down on his back. His attacker fell to the ground with a groan. Casually he hefted the man up by the collar and dragged him out of sight. Throwing the groaning man on the ground he studied his opponent.

A young man, perhaps nineteen with black hair and pale skin, his canine teeth were abnormally long and his eyes were tinged with yellow. A vampire. A young one too, he estimated he'd been turned less then a year ago by his scent. Older vampires had an aged scent that younger vamps didn't gain for several years. The vampire snarled at him and jumped to his feet. Logan knocked him down with one swift punch before letting his claws emerge.

Yellow eyes grew wide in shock at the shiny, sharp bone claws in the hands of his target. "You better start talking bub before I decide to relieve ya of vital body parts."

He stuttered for a moment in pure terror. The feral expression on the older man's face chilled him completely. He was the best of the vampire younglings! But apparently somebody in the chain of command underestimated the man called Logan.

Screaming in protest when the claws moved closer he panted, "All right! All right, I'll tell you."

Dark knowing eyes bore into him and he licked his lips. "A John Winchester killed the leader's mate and the boss wants vengeance. We received orders to track down John Winchester. While someone killed the man and whoever accompanied him someone else must infiltrate the home of the Winchester children, kill their guardians, and take them, alive. That's all I know, I swear."

He shrunk closer to the ground at the sudden wild black rage in his opponent's eyes. "Where can I find your leader? Well?"

Wincing, he gasped; "Kansas. He said he personally wanted to take the children."

Logan slammed his head into the vampire's, knocking him out cold. With a vicious snarl he ran back toward the truck. John had just finished paying and looked up when he came barreling over.

"Get in!" Logan barked. John barely got the door closed before Logan gunned the engine and roared down the highway.

"What the hell is going on?" John demanded. Logan glared straight ahead as he answered.

"I oughta gut you alive for being such an idiot!" The man growled. "You killed a vampire without even considering how she lived didn't ya?"

"She was a vampire! They're evil! How can you…"

"Because not everything is simply black and white! Apparently you killed a vampire who didn't want to hurt humans while her mate does. Congratulations; you royally pissed him off and now he's going after your children!"

His mouth suddenly became dry and his blood ran cold as ice. He stared out the window trying to comprehend what his actions had done. But vampires were evil! He argued silently. Finally he gave up and focused on reaching his children instead.

Logan, meanwhile, dealt with a different battle. He'd never been the sentimental type of guy but since meeting Mary, raising her for a year and more recently her children he seemed more inclined to the touchy-feely moments. Right now though, the thought of Dean, Sam, and the Murphy's facing vengeful vampires drove a stake of fear through his heart and revved the anger boiling in his gut. If only he—no he couldn't lose control. He would make it…he had to.

* * *

Jim clutched the wheel tightly, his knuckles pale white. Beside him, Dean could feel every emotion rolling of the reverend in endless waves. Wincing, Dean tried to remember what Logan said about protecting his mind. Unfortunately the continuous waves of worry prevented him from achieving any form of protection. Sighing in frustration he asked, "Pastor Jim, what's wrong? What's happening to Sammy and Maggie?"

The older man tightened his jaw. "I don't know Dean. I just know something is wrong."

Yeah, that was about all Dean could determine too. He sighed heavily again, wishing Logan was with them. He knew Logan needed to track down his father, and he did want his father to come home, he just wished Logan could take him and Sammy with him. 'Hurry Logan,' he whispered. 'Sammy's in trouble.'

* * *

Logan suddenly went stiff and his expression was one of shock. John stared at the man in surprise, wondering what was bothering him. Logan's eyes hardened and he slammed his foot further down on the accelerator, plastering John against the seat.

"What's wrong?" John demanded, bracing his hands against the door. Logan did not answer. John growled in frustration but froze when Logan said tersely, "We're too late."


End file.
